


unto the breach

by see_addy_write



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-episode fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/see_addy_write/pseuds/see_addy_write
Summary: Coda to 4X06.The conversation that comes next.





	unto the breach

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in the hour after the episode aired. hopefully i caught most of the many, many typos and ridiculous run-ons, but if not, i'm sorry! i just had too many feelings, haha. 
> 
> enjoy :)

“Since when do you have to ask?” 

It’s a good point. Neither of them are big on asking before pushing into the other’s personal space – they never have been. Deran used to climb through Adrian’s window to fuck him from behind without a word, for God’s sake, and he’s never once hesitated in sliding under the hot spray of the shower and rubbing himself off against Deran’s warm, slick skin until he turns around and slams Adrian into the tile.

But the atmosphere in the bathroom tonight is different, heavier in a way that Adrian doesn’t understand. It’s been weird between them for days – weeks, really – and he knows that most of that’s his fault. Deran’s given him every opportunity to come clean about the DEA and the detective asking questions about the Codys, but every time, the words turn to lead in his throat and he just can’t get them out. There’s still this little voice in the back of his head whispering that Deran sent Pope after a guy Adrian fucked a couple of times; what’s he going to do if he finds out that Adrian’s been helping the DEA, or about the Detective asking pointed questions? 

He wants to trust Deran, he does. And most of the time it’s not an issue – but with this, with something that’s so terrifying and mortifying, Adrian just can’t quite manage it. 

The solemn, pained air in the darkened bathroom that night feels like something else, though, and the way that Deran’s head hangs low against his chest when Adrian enters looks like defeat, which isn’t a look Adrian has ever seen on the other man. Deran doesn’t do defeat, or guilt – he skips straight to anger or desperation, and Adrian knows what to do with those, how to handle him while they’re in control. 

So he asks permission to enter, and strips off his boxers slowly. When he’s in the shower, it takes Deran a moment to turn and look at him, and though the room is cast in shadow, Adrian catches the dark intensity in his eyes. He’s silent, they both are, and the moment feels fragile and fleeting in a way that makes Adrian’s gut clench. So he reaches out, running the palms of his hands down Deran’s shoulders and over the wet plains of his back, and their foreheads fall together. The muscles beneath his hands are tense, and if Adrian didn’t know better, he’d say Deran was shaking as they stood beneath the spray. 

He’s about to say something, anything, to break the silence when Deran does it for him. The fingers in his hair are gentle, cherishing in a way that a year ago, Adrian would’ve said Deran Cody wasn’t capable of. He pushes into the touch, eyes drifting closed for a second as he appreciates the open affection and physical contact, but they blink open immediately as Deran starts to speak. 

“I love you.”

The three words aren’t ones Adrian’s ever expected to hear, at least not as long as he stayed committed to Deran Cody. He’d known, even as a dumbass teenager, that none of the Cody boys ever really understood what love was. Not when the person who was supposed to teach them was two steps from a complete sociopath – Smurf didn’t love anyone or anything except power, and her sons grew up learning that the only time anyone deserved their attention is when they did earned it. Violence and crime is the Cody way, and it always had been. Relationships are for sex, for stress relief and fun, but they never came before the family – and Adrian has always known that no matter how deep he got in with Deran, that would never really change. 

So the words rob him of all coherent thought, and he all but throws himself at Deran. His arms are wound around the other man before he even realizes he’s moved, and he kisses him thoroughly –

– until he realizes that Deran isn’t responding. 

He hasn’t pushed Adrian away. There’s still a hand at the small of his back and one cupping the side of his neck, but Deran’s passive in a way that Adrian’s never experienced, and all of the sudden, it just feels wrong. He pulls back despite the wounded noise Deran makes, putting some distance between their bodies, and stares hard at him. 

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, breathing heavily. “You just – you said you love me, man, and you don’t want to kiss me?” The hurt in his voice is annoying, and he knows he’s got no right to be demanding answers. The hypocrisy grates at his his nerves, and Adrian glances down at their bare feet, at the water as it swirls around the drain. 

“I don’t know,” Deran says in a terribly quiet voice. He’s gone still as granite, and the expression on his face is carefully blank, though not as cold as Adrian knows he’s capable of. There’s a desperate gleam in his eyes, obvious by the moonlight shining in the bathroom window. “Were you gonna tell me you were talking to the cops?” 

Adrian freezes, his entire body going rigid and cold despite the warmth of the water still pounding down on them both. His heartbeat accelerates, and it’s so loud he’s sure Deran can hear it over the water and his own voice, but Deran doesn’t move. He just keeps his gaze on Adrian, steady and overbright – and there’s no point in lying, anymore. Deran knows, and there’s no doubt in his stance, no wiggle room to evade the question. And Adrian’s always been a shitty fucking liar – it’s amazing he’s gotten away with his ruse this long, really, since Deran reads him better than anyone else. It hits him, then, that he’s likely only made it this long because Deran’s been willfully ignoring the obvious signs. 

Oh, God. 

“No,” he admits hoarsely, and hates that his voice shakes as he speaks. “It’s not what you think, Deran, fuck. I didn’t – I never said anything about you. They found out you were my boyfriend, they brought in a Detective who asked a bunch of questions, but I never said anything. I gave them shit on Jack so they didn’t throw me behind bars, but I swear, I didn’t –”

Deran leans forward and presses his mouth to Adrian/s, effectively stopping the rambling confession. It’s so vastly different than the reaction he’d been expecting that he goes slack, letting the kiss happen, and eventually, Adrian’s fingers curl convulsively into the other man’s shoulders, his nails digging into his skin. He blinks hard against the sudden burning in his eyes, and tries not to cling when Deran pulls back. He still doesn’t know what to expect or how this will go – Deran doesn’t seem particularly murderous, but he’s not the killer in the family, either. Maybe this is just how he’s going to lull Adrian into a sense of complacency. Maybe this is all just a ruse, until Pope can get here with his gun, or his acetylene torch. 

“I love you,” Deran tells him again, his fingers sliding through Adrian’s wet hair, and even though he knows it’s stupid, Adrian’s anxiety diminishes a little with those words. “Deep breaths,” is his next command, and Adrian tries to follow. The shakes in his body make it hard, though, and he finds himself leaning heavily against Deran’s chest, cheek cradled in the valley where his shoulder meets his neck, with two strong arms holding him upright. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he’s promised, and Adrian knows that Deran wouldn’t bother with reassurances if this was the end of the line. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, feels discombobulated and bewildered, and his heart is still pounding double-time in his chest, so he focuses on the words, and the honest sentiment behind them. 

Somehow, that’s what drives the point home: Deran Cody really does love him. 

“Smurf knew someone was talking to the cops, but when I figured it out, I – I took care of it,” Deran continues talking, oblivious to the revelation taking place in Adrian’s head. The stammer is obvious, and Adrian doesn’t know what to do with that; he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s heard Deran stammer, or speak anything less than confidently, and it never means anything good. “No one in the family will suspect you, now. All we have to do is get this detective off your back, and this’ll all be over.” 

Adrian lifts his head off of Deran’s shoulder to look at him, his brows drawn and his expression pinched. “You took care of it? With what, lies? Deran, Smurf knows all of your tells. There’s no way she’s going to believe -” 

Deran shakes his head, cutting Adrian off. “No. I told them it was someone else,” he explains shortly. “It’s taken care of. Seriously. You don’t need to worry about my family – we need to focus on the cop situation.” 

“You sent them after someone else? Fuck, Deran, I don’t want them killing some poor dumbass because I –” 

“I already killed him!” Deran bursts out, and Adrian shrinks back from both the sudden yell and the violence inherent in the words. “Colby fucking knew, all right? He knew you were working with Jack; he’s the one that told me. Then when Jack got busted, he figured out you had to be working with the cops, and he was threatening all sorts of shit, and I couldn’t –” Deran stops talking, swallowing harshly, and kicks the showerhead to turn off the water. Water drips from his hair and beard, and it would normally make Adrian smile … but nothing about this situation is funny. 

“I couldn’t stand back and watch Pope or J or someone kill you, okay? It didn’t matter if you were talking to the cops or not – I couldn’t do it. I’m in love with you, for fuck’s sake, and even if everything is screaming at me to start running, I can’t. So just stop arguing with me. Please. My brothers, Smurf – it’s handled. Trust me?” His voice softens towards the end, and Adrian finds himself closing the distance between them again, almost hurling himself at the other man. 

They’ve got a lot to figure out, he knows. That detective is smart, and Adrian still doesn’t want to rot in prison for a stupid decision – but the ground beneath his feet feels a hell of a lot steadier with Deran on his side, even when he’s clearly compromised by the murder he committed earlier that night. Adrian has no idea how to feel about that, and doesn’t even want to think about it now, not when his life are finally starting to feel less like a house of cards an instant from collapsing when the right breeze strikes. 

“I do,” Adrian tells Deran, pressing a kiss to the hinge of his jaw. I – should’ve trusted you earlier, but I do now, I promise.” His lips thin thoughtfully, and he takes a single step back, just enough that the only places they touch are his hands on Deran’s shoulders. He lifts his gaze until it’s locked with the familiar orbs of his lover, and he smiles crookedly, the first honest expression he’s given him in weeks. “And I love you too, you know. Even if all of this is the shittiest way possible to show it.” He swallows, and says haltingly, “I’ll follow your lead. Whatever you say, I’ll do – I’m not going to tell them shit about you or your family.” 

Deran nods once, his expression a little lighter. It’ll be some time, Adrian thinks, before he recovers from what he’s done that night, and he vows to himself that he’ll help carry that load, if he can. If Deran will let him. 

“Can you forgive me?” he asks finally, because it’s the last question he needs answered before he can relax, even just enough to sleep that night. Adrian knows that what he’s done is not something easily let go of, especially not when it’s driven Deran to kill someone. He can see Deran getting him out from under the DEA’s thumb and then telling him to get the hell out of Oceanside, out of his life – it would be fitting, probably. Adrian would even understand, even if it would hurt like hell. 

“As long as you’re telling me the truth,” Deran answers, reaching for a towel outside the glass doors of the shower. “As long as you’re honest with me from now on – yeah. It’s not like I’m fucking perfect, either.” He snorts a little, and dries his face on his towel before offering one to Adrian. It’s white, and he can’t help but see the gesture as a white flag of surrender. Deran wants peace, and Adrian – Adrian can’t think of anything better. 

“I promise,” he says, and drags Deran into another kiss. There’s time to deal with reality tomorrow; for tonight, Adrian figures they could both stand to lose themselves and their feelings in the comfort and warmth of each other’s bodies.


End file.
